To be sick or not to be sick

Oh, hi. It's me again. Nice to see you. What's that you say? You were starting to miss the boring details of my boring life? I'm so sorry! Let me remedy that right away.

First off, I had the most delicious time in Minneapolis with two of my besties, Queen Sarah and Mistress Molly. We stayed at an awesome hotel, whose bedding I literally wanted to steal (why officer, I am just 36 months pregnant, hence the huge feather comforter sized belly I have). I might never have another sleep issue if I had sheets and feather beds and feather pillows and feather comforters like I had for that one glorious night. It's kind of sad really, because my own poor bed will never be able to live up to my high expectations now. In fact, I came home and verbally abused my sheets until they cried.

My friends and I literally shopped till we dropped at the Mall of America, or the MOA, as we Minnesotans call it. We almost went MIA at the MOA. I spent way too much money on "Christmas presents" for "other people".

We bought a bottle of lemoncello and sipped it, girlishly, on ice, as we laid in the afore-stated glorious bedding and watched a scary movie (which was not girlish at all, especially the decidedly un-feminine extended rape scene. *shudder*).

(As a side note, I WILL be posting the photos from our little trip as soon as I can. Keep an eye out.)

In other news, I am trying not to get sick. Rather, I am trying not to get sickER than I am. It always follows that if I have an important audition (I do) or a show in which I am singing (I do) then my throat closes and my chest hurts and my nose clogs. It's all weird psychosomatic crap that probably means I am mentally ill, as well as physically.

Finally, I smell dang good, thanks to my overzealous purchases at Lush. Jealous?

≈Carolyn